Anywhere but Here
by xJacksGirlx
Summary: The team are presented with their hardest case yet.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace or Barney the dinosaur.

……………………

It was 6am. His alarm was due to go off in an hour, but he hadn't been to sleep yet. Instead, he had spent the last seven hours lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

April 7th was always hard for him. But this year it was worse. This year, the thought of it made him physically ill. He wished that he could just sleep through, wake up on the 8th and carry on as normal. But he couldn't even get a regular nights sleep, let alone hibernate for 24 hours.

He pulled himself out of bed and went to the window. The sun was rising. The city was waking up. He envied all the other New Yorkers. To them, today was just another day.

He sighed and flopped back onto his bed. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to go to sleep now, an hour's sleep wouldn't be any use. If anything, it would just make him more tired. Finally accepting the fact that sleep would not come, he switched on the television. Not even a tedious children's show about a giant purple dinosaur helped clear his mind. He turned it off and threw the remote in frustration when Barney started singing about the joys of family.

If he wasn't going to sleep, then he needed to wake up completely. He went into the kitchen and made some strong coffee. After three cups, none of which had any effect, he got dressed.

He had had a nagging feeling for a long time now that something was missing from his life. Once upon a time, he knew exactly how that void could be filled. Now, though, he was too strong to give in. He could resist.

Couldn't he?

He sat on the couch, holding his head in his hands, rocking. He was feeling claustrophobic. He needed to get out, needed to find a way to get rid of the thoughts that wouldn't go away on their own.

He was too close to giving in to the one thing that would help him right now. The magical cure for everything that made him hurt. At the same time as craving it, he knew that it was not good for him. It was self-destructive. He had been down that path before but had managed to come back before the head on collision. If he gave in this time, would he make it back?

Sometimes, when it got really bad, he would have what could only be described as a panic attack. He would find it difficult to breathe and it felt like the room was closing in on him. The sign that one was coming, a sudden wave of nausea, hit him and he had to get out.

He left his apartment and jumped into his car. He wasn't sure where he was driving. He just needed to get there.

Anywhere.

Anywhere but here.

……………………

It was 12noon. He was supposed to have been in work for three hours, but he hadn't shown up yet. And his colleagues were worried about him.

Even if he was running as little as 10 minutes late, he rang ahead to let them know. But today, they had heard nothing from him. Yesterday had been his day off and he usually rang at least one of them out sheer boredom, but they heard nothing off him then, either.

Every 15 minutes, one of them tried his cell phone and another tried the phone in his apartment. And every time there was no answer.

There had been three visits to his apartment, each time with ten minutes spent banging loudly on the door. The door was never opened.

Their concern was turning into panic. Especially when one of them mentioned that she was supposed to have had dinner with him the previous evening but he hadn't shown up.

This wasn't like him at all. If he wasn't there when he should have been, then something must have happened.

They all came to the conclusion that there was only one thing they could do for now; file a missing persons report.

Danny Taylor was officially missing.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: the rights to Without a Trace belong to Hank Steinberg (I think) or, as I like to call him, God. Alas, I am not him.

……………………

_1pm_

Jack pulled Danny's employee file out of his filing cabinet. He was trying, and failing, not to think about the fact that they might not find Danny alive and well. It was a fact that he had grudgingly accepted a long time ago: you can't save everybody. Usually, it was something he considered throughout the cases he worked on, if only to shield himself from getting too invested in them.

He sat at his desk and looked through the file. Every so often he glanced into the main office, hoping that Danny would run in late with some excuse about his car breaking down or something. Each time, he was disappointed.

……………………

Samantha was looking through Danny's desk. She had been for half an hour and had so far found nothing that could help them find him.

But that may have been because she wasn't 100 focused. She was too busy thinking about last night. Danny was supposed to come over to her place at 8o'clock for dinner but he never got there. At the time, she wasn't worried. He'd done it before. Made plans with her and then got a call from a girl he was dating and forgotten about Sam. That was why she insisted he came to her apartment, so she didn't end up sitting alone in a restaurant. She didn't mind. She wanted Danny to find a nice girlfriend and be happy. But she was feeling guilty that she hadn't called to check that he was okay.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Samantha," Martin said. "You want me to take over?"

"No, I'm okay," she said. "I was just…I should have called him."

Martin crouched beside her.

"You said yourself that he'd done it before. You had no reason to think that anything was wrong."

Sam smiled sadly and went back to her search. Martin stood and went back to his own desk. He picked up his phone and dialled the next number on his list. He had taken the job of calling the hospitals and morgues.

He had made it through all the hospitals with no Danny Taylors or John Does and was about to start on the morgues. He prayed that his luck would hold out and Danny wouldn't be in any of them either.

Twenty minutes later, Martin breathed a sigh of relief. He had reached the end of his list and his prayer had been heard.

But they were still no closer to finding him.

……………………

Viv walked into Jack's office.

"Hey," she said. "How's it going?"

"Terrific," Jack said, sarcastically. "No next of kin listed in his file and I'm down as his emergency contact. As far as we know, he has no life outside of this building."

Jack ran his hands through his hair. He was frustrated. He remembered what he had said to Martin on his first day with the team.

_Once we find out who she is, odds are we'll find out where she is._

That philosophy had helped them many a time before. Now, when it was somebody they already knew, it wasn't getting them anywhere.

"No next of kin?" Viv asked, confused.

"That's what it says."

"Doesn't he have a brother?"

"I don't know."

Jack turned to his computer and searched for Danny's information in the database.

"Yeah, one brother," said Jack. "Rafael Alvarez. In prison for grand theft auto."

"Any other family?"

"No." Jack paused. "What's today's date?"

"April 7th. Why?"

……………………

Sam and Martin were at the conference table when Jack and Viv came over.

"Sam," Jack said. "Did you find anything in Danny's desk?"

"Nothing useful," Sam said.

"What about you, Martin? Anything at the hospitals or morgues?"

"No Danny Taylors or John Does in the last 48 hours."

"Okay. I may have found something. It could be just a coincidence or it could be the key to his disappearance, I'm not sure."

"What is it?" asked Sam.

"Today is the anniversary of his parents death."

……………………

_9am_

Danny sat down on the ground, barely even noticing that it was muddy. He stared at the names on the head stones. His parent's names.

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad."

He hardly ever came down here, either because he didn't have the time or because he didn't have the strength.

When they had first died, everybody told him that it would get easier, that someday soon, it wouldn't hurt as much. He was still waiting for that day.

He sat there for an hour, rambling about anything he could think of to say. He talked about the Mets, the book he was reading, music, his favourite television programmes and whatever else popped into his head before eventually making it onto the subject of his life. He talked about work and the rest of the team. About how Jack was like a father figure and Viv had sort of become a surrogate mother. About how he thought of Sam like the sister he never had. How sometimes he was jealous when Martin complained about his dad and thought how lucky he was that his dad had lived long enough to annoy him.

How he still felt guilty about causing the crash that killed them.

He didn't notice he'd said it until it came out, didn't even know he felt that way. He was silent for a moment.

Twenty years worth of grief, anger, and guilt that he hadn't known was there, started fighting to get out.

The tears started to fall. He didn't know how long he was there, crying, but by the time he was finished, he would have sworn that there were no tears left in his body.

He honestly couldn't tell if he felt better or worse. The only feeling he could truly distinguish from the rest was nausea. He knew that if he didn't leave now, he would end up staying where he was forever.

He shakily lifted himself up, told his parents that he loved them, and went to see one of the only people in the world he felt he could talk to about how he was feeling.

……………………

A/N Just thought I'd let you know, I'm trying to go for the flashbackyness that they have on the show, so the parts in the story are not in chronological order, they're in logical order. If that makes sense.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: unless Hell has frozen over and no one notified me, I'm never gonna own WaT.

……………………

_9:30am_

Danny walked into the room. She was curled up on her bed with her back to him, drawing.

"Hi, Clare," he said.

She rolled over to face him and smiled.

"Danny," she said, jumping off the bed and running to him.

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, a hug that he returned as he felt a grin spread across his own face.

"How you doing?"

"Okay. They might even let me go home for a weekend soon."

"Good. I'm really pleased for you." The smile showed her he meant it, too.

"How are you? You look tired."

"I am. Didn't get much sleep last night," he said. He didn't want to tell her that he hadn't actually got any sleep, as it would only worry her.

Since Clare's disappearance a few months ago, Danny had been visiting her a lot. He felt that he had found a kindred spirit in Clare. They had a lot in common.

_Danny cautiously walked over to the young girl, standing alone by the water._

"_Clare," he said carefully, trying not to startle her._

_She turned to face him._

"_Get away from me," she said._

"_I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Danny."_

"_Leave me alone."_

"_I can understand why you want to be alone. It's nice here. Clare, I understand why you feel the way you do. I lost both my parents when I was eleven. We were driving somewhere and they were fighting," Danny sighed, as the memories of that day came back to him, not that they were ever very far away. "My dad was yelling at my mom. He used to like to yell at my mom. I wanted him to stop so I said something." Danny could tell that he was beginning to get through to Clare and he had to fight the urge to stop talking and leave these memories where they were, locked in his mind, never seeing the light of day. "Then he turned around and yelled at me. That's when the car started to swerve." In his head, he heard his mom start to scream and his dad swearing. He could still remember what it was like to be in that car. Thinking that this was it; that he was going to die. That was the last thing he remembered before he was knocked unconscious till he came round in hospital and was told his parents were dead. "I never told anybody that. Ever. And I know what it's like to keep a secret. I didn't mean to do anything wrong that day. I was just a kid…just like you." He could see from the look in Clare's eyes that he had reached her, made her realise that she was not alone. But he knew there was one more thing she needed to hear. "Clare, your mom knows you didn't mean to hurt her. She knows you didn't mean to make her fall. She knows that you would do anything in the world to bring her back, Clare. But she doesn't want you to do this." He wrapped his arms round her and pulled the knife from her hand. "Your mother loves you Clare."_

_As he held her tightly while she cried, it took all his strength not to just break down himself and cry along with her. Her father came over and Danny let go and walked away._

_When he was away from the crowd, he gave in and let himself cry._

They both sat down on the bed. Clare watched Danny for a moment, until he became self-conscious.

"Clare, why are you staring at me?"

"Wondering why you're here."

"Okay, I'll leave," he said, jokingly. He went to stand up before Clare hit him playfully on the arm.

"That's not what I meant. You just usually call before you come down and you didn't this time. What's up?"

"I just wanted to see you. Wanted to talk."

"What about?"

"You're very nosy today."

"I'm very nosy most days. And I prefer the word inquisitive."

Danny laughed. Granted, he hadn't really known Clare before she went missing. But he had seen her paintings and drawings when they had been looking for her and, he now realised, there was a lot of her personality in them. After she had been found and returned to the hospital, she had been quiet, withdrawn, and nervous. But now she was getting back to normal, at least what he thought she was normally like, and that made him happy. She was a sweet kid.

Danny was glad that she was getting help to work through her feelings over her mother's death. He didn't want her to keep it all inside, like he had. He ended up going off the rails, breaking the law, until he was eventually caught shoplifting rum from a liquor store at the age of 13. He was given two choices when he got to court: after school program at St Benedict's church or juvenile detention centre. He chose St Benedict's and never broke the law again.

"So, are you gonna talk to me, or what?" said Clare.

Danny sighed. He knew that Clare wouldn't give up until he talked but he didn't want to tell her the whole story in case she ended up back in the state she was in before.

"It's twenty years ago today that my mom and dad died," he said nervously, watching her face for her reaction.

"Oh. You okay?" Clare could tell that Danny didn't want to talk about it to her. She knew that he wanted to protect her but she also knew that she was one of the best people to understand what he was going through.

"Been better," he said.

"Hey," she said, knowing she had to change the subject. "Got something for you."

She stood up and went to the desk in the corner of the room. She pulled something out of the drawer and sat back down beside him.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

Danny did as she said. She placed something in his hands.

"Okay, you can look now."

He opened his eyes and looked down at the piece of paper he was now holding.

"Wow," he said.

"An original Metcalf."

It was a painting of the lake where they had first met. It was nighttime, and there were two white figures in a hut on the water's edge. Above the hut were three stars, painted in silver glitter.

"I remember you saying one time you came to visit that when you were a kid you'd name stars after people that you missed," she said. "So, erm, that's your mom, that's your dad, and that ones my mom." She pointed to each star in turn and looked up at him. "I painted another one, exactly the same, for me to keep. You like it?"

"I love it," he said pulling her into a hug so that she couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

……………………

_2pm_

Jack came into the main office, looking slightly less tense than he had all day.

"Okay," he began. "I just got a call from a security guard at Copper Meadows Psychiatric Hospital."

"Copper Meadows?" Samantha questioned.

"The hospital Clare Metcalf disappeared from a few months ago. They keep a computer log of all cars that come into the parking lot and apparently Danny's car was there at around 9:30 this morning. I'm gonna head over there. My guess is that he went to see Clare so she might know where he was going. While I'm gone, Sam, check Danny's phone records. Martin, you can check his credit card and bank account activity. This is really starting to look like a voluntary disappearance so he could have taken some money out or paid for something somewhere. Viv, I want you to come with me. But first I need to talk to you. In my office."

Viv followed Jack into his office.

"What is it, Jack?" asked Viv.

"This goes no further than you and me, right. Nobody is to know that I know or that you know. Especially not Danny. Okay?"

"Of course."

"When we found Clare Metcalf, it was Danny that went to talk to her. He told her that his parents are dead, so he knows how she feels."

"Jack, everybody knows his parents are dead."

"Yeah, but Danny told Clare about the accident. In detail. He still had his mic on and I heard them talking. Apparently, his parents were fighting and he said something and his dad turned round to him and lost control of the car."

"Oh my god."

"He said to Clare that he knew that he didn't mean to do anything wrong but…I don't know…he probably would have said anything to calm her down. And you know as well as I do that Danny's never been one for talking. But there was something in his voice. After Clare's father came over, Danny just walked off."

"You think there's something that he's keeping back, right."

"Yeah. I'm really worried about him."

"Why hasn't he called in, though?"

"I don't know. We'll ask him when we find him. If he was at Copper Meadows to see Clare, we have to tread carefully. Very carefully. We don't want to make her panic. And we can't mention what Danny told her that night."

"Okay."

……………………

_3pm_

"Hey," Martin said. "How did it go?"

Jack and Viv had just returned to the office.

"He was visiting Clare Metcalf," said Jack. "And it wasn't the first time, either. According to the visitors log, he goes up there at least once a week. He calls her all the time, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Clare says they get on really well."

"Did he tell her anything this morning? Where he was going?"

"No. He came over, said he just wanted to see how she was, she gave him a painting she did, they talked a bit more, and he left. She could tell he felt down but he wouldn't talk much. Just told her that it's twenty years ago today that his parents died. Any credit card or bank account activity?"

"Yeah. He used his credit card at a gas station in Dobbs Ferry."

"Dobbs Ferry?"

"Yeah. A service area on Interstate 87, north from here, just beyond Yonkers."

"You and Sam head up, check that it was Danny that used the card."

"Okay."

Martin and Sam left the office. Jack closed his eyes and sighed. Viv put her hand on his arm.

"We'll find him, Jack."

……………………

A/N Okay, Clare is very different (hopefully) to the way she was in the show but that's deliberate. I wanted to show that she is getting better. You know, it was awful writing this chapter. Having to watch Enrique Murciano over and over and over to get the scene from Clare de Lune right. Oh, the things we do for our art! (And yes, I know fine well that I could just have got the words off the Internet, but shhh!)


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: the only things I own are this computer (which annoys the crap out of me), an excessive collection of nail polish (half of which have dried up) and dozens of books (that I haven't read). So suing me would be a waste of time.

……………………

_3:30pm_

Jack sat at his desk, staring at the certificate on his wall. His psychology degree. He had always had a knack for reading people, understanding them. Danny was dedicated to his job. For him to suddenly take off like this, something must have been bothering him for a while and Jack couldn't help thinking that he should have noticed something sooner.

Samantha and Martin had returned from Dobbs Ferry with a tape from the security camera. The tape showed that it was Danny that used the card. He was on his own, which all but confirmed that he had, indeed, left of his own free will. But there was something strange about the way he was acting. He looked distracted, nervous almost.

The Danny on the tape was not the Danny that they knew, the Danny that could usually be relied on to come back with some cocky, less than helpful remark to virtually anything that was said to him. Like the time he suggested that a missing man's dry cleaning business could be a front.

"_For what?" asked Jack._

"_I don't know," said Danny. "Drugs, diamonds, illegal ferrets."_

Even just thinking about it, Jack couldn't help but laugh.

……………………

Viv was sitting at her desk. She was missing the almost daily conversations she had with Danny about sports. It was 4 days into the new baseball season and yesterday her team, the Yankees, had played against the Red Sox and Danny's team, the Mets, had faced the Cincinnati Reds.

She knew that, if the Yankees had lost, Danny would have been gloating all day. Especially if the Mets had won. She didn't know the scores though. It was a kind of ritual between her and Danny, checking the sports pages together in the morning. Without Danny there, she didn't felt right about looking up the results.

The newspaper sat on her desk, unopened. Waiting for Danny.

……………………

_3pm_

Danny climbed back into his car. He took a deep breath as he pulled out of his parking spot.

He had figured out where he was going. The only thing left to work out was why. He couldn't understand the need he had to do this, or shake the feeling he had that he would not be able to find peace until he got there.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept shifting around in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

He felt claustrophobic again. He could feel one of his panic attacks coming on. He didn't know if it was because he needed a drink or because, for the first time in twenty years, he was headed towards the site of the crash that robbed him of his parents.

He concentrated hard on the road, occasionally blinking, trying to shake the headache that was steadily building.

The road was quiet, unusually so for one that lead onto an interstate. Danny was glad of that fact when he had to quickly pull over to throw up.

Every instinct he had was telling him that when he got back into the car, he should just turn round and head home.

He ignored them and carried on.

He pulled out onto the interstate and knew it was too late to change his mind. Danny couldn't help thinking how strange it was that he recognised so much from along this road, despite him not having been here since he was eleven.

_Danny was having a great day. He always loved these day trips with his family, but this was one of his favorites._

_Rafael had been grounded and left with their grandmother, so it was just Danny and his mom and dad. It wasn't that he didn't love his brother, but when he was there, their parents were always more involved with keeping Rafi out of trouble than with paying attention to Danny._

_Today, he had his parents all to himself._

_His dad pulled off the interstate and onto the road that headed to Arden, as Danny leant back in his seat and listened to 'Mustang Sally' playing on the radio._

_Danny looked out of his window. There was a field full of cows. He watched them for as long as possible, until they faded away into the distance, trying to ignore the argument that seemed to be firing up between his parents._

_Why did they have to do this? Spoil a nice day by arguing. He was trying even harder to ignore them but the argument was getting more and more heated._

_He leant his head against the window and watched the road blur past. He concentrated on the song, singing along quietly._

_When the song stopped and there was nothing more to distract him, he couldn't take it any more._

"_Why do you always have to fight? Can't you just be nice to each other for once?"_

_His dad turned round and shouted._

_His mom started screaming._

_His dad turned back to the road and started swearing._

_Everything went black._

Danny stopped the car by the side of the road and got out. He looked around him.

He opened the back door of the car and took out a paper bag, before crossing the road and sitting down under the tree that the car had crashed into.

……………………

_4pm_

Jack came over to the conference table, where Martin, Sam and Viv were.

"I need to talk to you all in my office," he said.

All three of them noticed the serious tone in his voice and it worried them.

Once inside his office, Martin was the first to speak, nervously asking what was wrong.

"About an hour ago, there was a second hit on Danny's credit card," Jack said.

"What was the purchase?" asked Viv.

Jack hesitated for a moment.

"Vodka."

A/N Just to let you know that I am having some problems writing the next chapter (mainly that just because something makes sense to me, the writer, it doesn't necessarily make sense to you, the reader) but I will get it written and posted ASAP.


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I don't own Without a Trace. I am only borrowing it. I'll give it back. But can I keep Danny? Pretty please?

……………………

_2am_

Jack flopped back onto the couch in his office, rubbed his eyes and yawned. It had been a long day and he was relieved it was finally over.

……………………

_6pm_

Jack was sitting in the hospital waiting room, waiting for Danny's doctor to answer her page.

Danny's car had been found parked at the side of the road with Danny sitting at the other side of the road. Jack didn't know what Danny's condition was. All he knew was that the cops that found the car had called an ambulance for him and he was in a hospital in Arden.

"Agent Malone?"

Jack looked up to see a dark haired woman in a lab coat standing in front of him.

"Yes."

"I'm Doctor Palmer." She held her hand out and he shook it.

"How is he?"

"Not good, I'm afraid."

"How much did he have to drink?"

The doctor sighed and sat down next to Jack.

"He hadn't been drinking. There was an unopened bottle of vodka next to him and we checked his blood alcohol level. It was normal."

Jack looked at her, confused.

"So what's going on? Why is he here?"

"Agent Malone, he's been admitted to the psychiatric ward."

……………………

_8am_

"Jack."

Jack opened his eyes. It took a while for it to register that he was in his office. Viv was standing over him.

"Hey," he said, still half asleep.

"Hey yourself." She handed him the cup of coffee she was holding. "You look like you need it more than I do."

He rubbed the back of his neck and made a mental note to never sleep sitting up again.

"How's Danny?" she asked.

Jack sighed. When they first got the call that Danny was in hospital and while they still thought it was because he had been drinking, Jack decided that it would be best if he went up alone so as not to crowd Danny. They knew that he would most likely feel ashamed about falling of the wagon and wouldn't want them all to see him so vulnerable.

Now that Jack knew that wasn't the case, he had the dreaded task of relaying the information to the rest of the team.

"He wasn't drunk. Didn't even touch the vodka." Jack paused and took a deep breath. "He's in the psych ward."

Saying those words made Jack feel like he had failed Danny. He couldn't help feeling guilty for not talking to Danny after they found Clare Metcalf. He didn't because he trusted Danny to know that Jack was there for him any time he needed to talk. Instead, Danny had kept it all inside, doing an amazing job of hiding the signs that anything was wrong, until everything caught up with him.

"The psych ward?" Viv asked.

"He was catatonic when they found him. He was just sitting there, staring into space. And he was pretty much the same when I left."

"Did you see him?"

……………………

_6:30pm_

It took Jack a moment to find the strength to step into the room.

It almost physically hurt Jack to see him like that. Strong, confident, Danny, in a hospital bed, curled up in the foetal position.

Jack walked around to the other side of the bed, taking a seat. Danny didn't even seem to know that Jack was there.

……………………

A/N Sorry this took so long. Making sense is hard. In fact, I had to change the plot for this chapter a couple of times, because it stopped making sense to _me._ Any way, only one more chapter after this because if I write any more than that my brain will turn to mush.


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. And a shiny new television, ready for when we get series 3 over here in England.

……………………

Jack stepped out of the elevator and made his way to his office, having been home to shower and change. He had given Viv the basics of Danny's condition, which she had passed on to Samantha and Martin, and now he was ready to face going into detail.

He called all three of them into his office. They all knew that the only topic of conversation was Danny, but none of them knew how to start. There was a moment of silence before Jack decided to jump straight in.

"As you know, I saw Danny last night," he began. "Afterwards, I spoke with Doctor Palmer, his psychiatrist. She's diagnosed him with major depressive disorder, most likely triggered by unresolved issues with his parents' death."

"He will be okay, though?" asked Martin.

"He'll be in the hospital for a while. He's been prescribed Prozac and, when he's up to it, he'll go to group therapy and one-on-one therapy. It won't be easy. But I have faith in Danny. I believe he's going to get through this."

"What can we do to help?" asked Viv.

"Just let him know we're there for him and that we care. That's all we can do. For now, it's in the hands of the professionals."

All four of them fell silent, each of them knowing they were not directly at fault, but feeling guilty nonetheless.

……………………

Clare Metcalfe stared at the phone, wondering if she should phone Jack. After a couple of minutes, she decided against it and went back to her magazine.

She had called him almost everyday for the last five months, ever since Danny had been hospitalised, to ask how Danny was doing. He was always nice to her when they spoke, but lately she thought she might have been making a nuisance of herself.

Recently, all the news had been good. He seemed to be steadily improving all the time. She hated that she hadn't been able to go and see him, but she understood. Danny didn't want her to see him in the state he'd been in.

The doorbell interrupted her thoughts and she went to answer it.

"Danny!" she shrieked as she threw her arms around him.

"Hi, Clare," he said, smiling as he returned her hug.

Fifteen minutes of small talk and two cups of coffee later, Clare was finally calm enough for a proper conversation.

Danny finished his coffee and leaned back in his chair.

"Ever since I've known you," he began. "I've been putting myself in your place, trying to imagine, to empathise, with the way you felt about your mother's death. But a couple of months back, I looked at it in a different way. I put YOU in MY place."

"How do you mean?"

"If it was you in the car instead of me. If your parents were arguing and you said something and your dad lost control. I kept wondering what I would say to you."

Danny took a deep breath and was about to continue, when Clare started talking.

"You would tell me exactly the same thing that I would tell you. That it wasn't your fault and they know you didn't mean to make them crash. They know that if you could, you would bring them back and they love you."

Danny blinked back tears as Clare repeated what he had said to her the night they found her by the lake.

"I guess I'd always known that it wasn't my fault, but I never really believed it until I viewed it as an outsider. I have to accept what happened that day. I have to live with it. But I no longer have to live with the blame."

For a moment they both fell into a thoughtful silence, until Danny spoke.

"By the way, Jack says hi. He told me you two have been talking on the phone a lot recently."

Clare smiled sheepishly.

"I bet he got sick of me, huh?"

"God no. He thought it was sweet that you cared so much."

……………………

It was 6am. His alarm was due to go off in an hour, but he hadn't been to sleep yet. Instead, he had spent the last seven hours lying down, staring at the ceiling.

April 7th was always hard for him. But this year it was a little better.

Danny had spent the night on Viv's couch. She'd insisted that he shouldn't be alone. He was expecting it to be a rather awkward evening, with Viv constantly watching him and asking if he was okay, but he had a really good time. He spent a good few hours playing computer games with Reggie until he went to bed, and then had yet another Mets vs. Yankees debate with Viv. He knew that she would listen if he wanted to talk about how he was feeling, but she didn't push it.

Viv had always felt the need to mother him. She seemed to sense that he needed somebody to look after him and, over the past year, she had been even more maternal towards him. And he just knew that she would insist on him having a proper breakfast before they headed into work.

He'd been back at work for nearly two months now and things were going well. So far, he'd been on desk duty to ease him back into things. But with weekly counselling sessions and the untiring support of his colleagues, he was ready to go back on active duty.

……………………

Viv glanced across to where Danny sat in the passenger seat, reading a newspaper. They were on their way into work and Danny had been quiet since they left the house. He was going back into the field next week, and she was worried how he would cope.

She knew that he had changed since he'd been ill. He was being more open with her and the rest of the team. If something was bothering him, he would talk to one of them. He had even told them some things about his past, a topic they all knew he didn't like to discuss.

"Hey. Viv."

"Yeah?"

He turned to her and grinned.

"Yankees lost last night. One of these days, somebody should teach them how to play baseball."

Viv laughed.

"Yeah, and afterwards they could head over to Shea."

"I'll have you know, the Mets won their last game."

"First time for everything."

……………………


End file.
